The Doctor and the Assassin
by Sweet Neverwhere
Summary: The Doctor meant to take Mr. & Mrs. Pond to Paris in 1902. They ended up in Florence 1497. Starring Eleven, Amy, Rory and...well, a certain charming Italian assassino. SEQUEL ABANDONED (blame assholes)
1. Chapter 1: Wrong Date Again

**Authors note: This is set just before the Bonfire of the Vanities. They don't set a specific date for it so I put it a month before, giving our hero in white time to get re-acquainted with his home city. **

**There are no pairing in this apart from Amy/Rory as per the canon, the Doctor won't be getting the assassin into the TARDIS so there will be no 'bigger on the inside' moment from him. The rating might go up to M if our assassin can't keep his foul mouth in check. **

**Sadly, I do not own anything bar an overactive imagination. This is my first fanfic ever, please go easy on me.**

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><p>"Paris!" the Doctor proclaimed triumphantly as he swung open the doors to the TARDIS. "1902, if I'm correct," he added, turning to face the Ponds as they followed him out onto the back alley street. It was narrow and cramped but the Doctor merely beamed at his companions cheerfully and waved them out of the way so he could close the door behind them. "The Tower should be that way," he pointed over Amy's left shoulder towards the end of the alley, "now, don't spend too long, I want to be gone by sundown." Shooing them off, he turned to go in the opposite direction - until he was brought to a stop by Amy's familiar cry.<br>"What is it now, Pond?" Frowning at the red head as he made his way towards her, he noticed she was pointing at something.  
>"Doctor…<em>that<em> is not in Paris." His eyes followed her finger to rest upon a massive cathedral structure, it's dome a vibrant terracotta against the blue sky. "Ah," he said, wracking his brain as to where and when they were.  
>"Not Paris then," came a dry, unsurprised remark from Rory who was busy following the line of the giant tower which stood tall against the cathedral.<br>"Florence…" the Doctor muttered, frowning and wondering how he managed to get it wrong. _Again._  
>"Florence? So we're in Italy?" Amy sounded excited, the last time they visited Italy they had gone to Venice and found it swarming with vampires (not actual vampires mind, but close enough).<br>"Yes, that's the Basilica di Santa Maria del Fiore - the cathedral. Or Duomo, if you prefer. They started building it in 1296 but it looks like it's been finished for a while." The Doctor was desperately trying to figure out when they were and was merely talking aloud until he got the timelines right in his head. "That means we're later than 1436 but I don't think we're in the sixteenth century yet. It doesn't look old enough. Not that it looks that old at any point in it's life but -"  
>"-you're rambling." Amy cut in, looking at the Doctor with a slightly bored expression. "And that means you don't know what year it is." With a smirk, she turned on her heel and walked up to a man in an ornate uniform with a red cap - a city guard. "Excuse me, could you tell me what year it is?" Amy's men gawped at her as she turned on the charm before thanking the man and wandering back to where they stood, mouths open like fish out of water. "May 1497. You're welcome."<br>"1497...Savonarola and the Bonfire of the Vanities." the Doctor noted, looking at his watch before shaking his head. "Nope, too early for the Bonfire. You wouldn't want to see that anyway, horrid business. Burning of books…and people." He pulled a face halfway between a snarl and a grimace that Amy couldn't help but internally laugh at. "Oh well, seeing as we're here we might as well have a look around. I've noticed that all Rory's done since we got here was look at Giotto's Campanile."  
>Rory, at the mention of his name, broke out of his stare for a brief moment to point at a section of the bell tower roughly three quarters of the way up. "I wouldn't normally stare at something…but there seems to be someone climbing that tower…"<p>

/

The wind was strong that far up the Campanile, it whipped about the climber's robes fiercely but his grip was strong enough to keep him firmly attached to the face of the tower. The burn in his arms and legs was reassuring and a smirk crept onto his lips as he pushed himself further up the tower to where he knew there was a place to shuffle around to the west face and carry on up until he could reach the very top. Every hand hold, every little notch to put his feet, he knew them as well as he knew the patterns of his own skin. Every movement he made was instinct, powered on by an unstoppable force to climb. It had been a while (years) since he had climbed the Campanile and he always enjoyed the challenge of scaling the tallest building in Firenze just to enjoy the view. Finally, his usual perch crept into his line of sight over his hood and with one last pull, he heaved himself up onto it and straddled it. With a triumphant but muted laugh, he shifted to get comfortable upon the narrow platform and dangled his legs in the wind. A gloved hand pushed back his hood and fingers ran through his hair as he sighed, enjoying the sight of Firenze sprawling out below him. He loved to be home. Venezia was nice, Forli held good company. But only Firenze was _home_. He had been away for so long and he had returned to find her a troubled place. He knew he would have to rid her of the thorn in her side but he could not act yet. Frowning in thought, he turned his attention downwards and let his vision blur into that black haze he knew so well. Flashes of blue, spots of red. Same old same old. And then…gold. He focussed hard on the three golden figures down below him, staring with the intensity of a eagle. Snapping out of his second sight, his gaze remained on the figures. He wasn't just watching them. _They _were watching _him._ He felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end as he lifted his hood back up without letting his sight drop from the trio. Finally, he broke off the stare and got to his feet without hesitation or fear of unbalancing himself. Despite the wind whipping at his robes and cape, he stood as solid as the tower did. The three had started to move, running towards the bottom of the Campanile, and the hooded figure crouched, listening to his heart beat getting faster as his body anticipated the rush of adrenaline that would follow what was coming.

And then, in one swift movement; as a scream from a female voice down below rang out over the Piazza del Duomo…

The hooded figure jumped.


	2. Chapter 2: Cat and Mouse

Terror overtook Amy as she watched the silhouetted figure against the blue sky stand on that precarious perch and she froze mid-run, skidding to a stop and unable to take her eyes off him. The Doctor and Rory, a few strides behind, stopped beside her just as the man launched himself off the ledge - Amy, unable to contain her horror, screamed and grabbed hold of Rory tightly, fearing the potential of seeing another human being splattered of the Florentine flagstones. The Doctor watched as the jumper seemed to fly for a moment, his arms spread wide like an eagle before he rolled in midair and fell the rest of the way backwards and disappear out of sight. Frowning as to why there wasn't now multiple screams and lots of people running, the Doctor took off to where the caped man should have fallen only to see nothing there apart from a man casually forking hay into a cart, a group of women chatting idly and a few guards patrolling. Even by his standards that was odd, people don't disappear. "Amy…" he called back to the red headed girl who was still clutching her husband as if the world was about to crumble under her feet, she merely looked at him fearfully and hesitated when he beckoned her over. It was Rory that lead the way, practically dragging his wife to where the Doctor stood.  
>"He's gone…Doctor, where did he go?" Her voice was weak and shaky as she surveyed the area and saw nothing out of the ordinary.<br>"I…" the man with the answers had to admit that he had no answer and gaped for a while before finally he turned away from her confused face and shrugged "I don't know".  
>"Doctor how can a man just disappear?" Rory's voice was demanding but he got no response, the Doctor was too busy eavesdropping on the snippet of conversation that a pair of women were having.<br>"_Sometimes I wish the Assassino would return to Firenze, that we might be of this tyranny,_" said the first woman and the Doctor's frown deepened at the fact the translation circuit wasn't picking up on everything and bits were still in dated Italian.  
>"<em>It's just a myth! A story parents tell their children,<em>" replied the second woman, but the Doctor was no longer listening. He was still lingering on that one word - _Assassino. _He had seen the Assassins first hand during his brief visit to the Crusades but that was back in the Twelfth Century…and this was Italy, not exactly the Middle East. A poster caught his eye an he wandered over to it with his companions close behind.  
>"Morti di vivo, 50.000f…" Rory read the poster and looked at the strangely silent Doctor while Amy stared at the poster before exclaiming "It's HIM!" in shock - which merely took her husband by surprise.<p>

/

Adrenaline pulsing through his veins, his breath hard and ragged but precisely controlled, the hooded figure lay hidden in the hay cart as silent as the grave. He had slipped into his second sight and was watching the three golden figures move about the Piazza out of the corner of his eye, not daring to move a muscle. Too late did he see the red figures moving closer, too late did he see the Seeker shove his halberd into the haystack. The world flashed back into normality as the sharp tip shot dangerously close to his left shoulder and he couldn't help the "Merda!" that escaped him as he scrambled from the hay away from any further accidental stabbing. The sudden emergence of a hooded figure exploding from the cart made the Seeker jump in alarm before the cry of "It's him! Get after him!" rang out over the Piazza but he was already in flight. At full sprint, he dived down a blind ally and turned on his pursuers sharply. With no weapons drawn, the three guards could be excused for thinking this would be an easy task - until a smoke bomb landed squarely at their feet. Amidst the coughing and confusion, three thrown knifes hit their mark with deadly precision and the hooded man was up onto the roof of a nearby building before the guards hit the ground.

/

At the explosion of activity behind them, the trio spun around in time to see the figure they had seen jump from an impossibly tall building emerge from a hay cart completely unscathed. Completely unscathed and hotly pursued by guards. It was Amy that lead the chase after them, the Doctor and Rory reacting more to her sudden movement than that of the chase they were themselves chasing. Amy wasn't going to let this one drop and the Doctor knew it, he had a bad feeling about what they would find by chasing the man but Amy wasn't one to be convinced otherwise - so he hadn't even bothered protesting when she dashed after them.

Wheeling around into the blind alley, Amy skidded to a stop and took in a lungful of the grey fog that skill polluted the air. Coughing, she backed out, her hand to her face; the Doctor and Rory stopped behind her and watched as the smoke cleared from around the three dead bodies of the unfortunate guards. There was no blood, no mess or sign of a struggle - the man had not left the alley because Amy was too close behind the guards and she would have run into him. But he wasn't there. Rory, being the nurse he was, instinctively went to the prone bodies but there was nothing he could do and he merely looked at the Doctor. The Time Lord was frowning again, his jaw clenched as he scanned the scene - it didn't make sense. His companions didn't like him when he was this silent, this serious.

/

Behind them, high on a beam between the two buildings, the man in white watched silently. He too was frowning, puzzled by his unusual followers and their strange attire and dialect. Even more puzzling was how, no matter how hard he stared, he couldn't figure out why they were gold in his second sight. Gold meant either targets or important people and he highly doubted they were targets - the fact that occasionally they would flash blue didn't aid his general bewilderment. The faint chink of armour turned his attention away from the three and on to a passing patrol. With a sneer in their general direction and a quick look at his followers, he shook his head. No matter who they turned out to be, he wasn't going to see them take the fall for his crime.  
>"You had better get out of here before the guards think you're the murderers."<br>It was a barked order shouted down to the three who jumped and looked up at him. He didn't hang around, darting away left and over the rooftops, barely hearing the "Hey wait!" that came from the girl as he left.

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><p><strong>Author's note: Thank you so much for the hits, reviews, favourites and story alerts. You're more than just statistics and I love you all for even looking :)<strong>

**Side note...I have a feeling Ezio is **_so_ **gonna get a slap.**


	3. Chapter 3: Puzzle Pieces

"Hey, wait!" cried Amy as the hooded man took off again, stepping forward and preparing to give chase _again_. The Doctor caught her arm and tightened his grip which caused her to swing around and shoot him a puzzled but cross glance.  
>"Amy, we are in an alley with three dead bodies - think about how running away would look," he reasoned, his voice calm but hushed as if the walls themselves had grown ears. "He's right, but we need to go calmly and casually." He let go and strode out ahead of his companions, his walk as casual as he could muster; he was quickly imitated by the Ponds, who didn't look back into the alley (even though the urge was almost too much for Rory as a group of guards neared where they were mere moments before. Steadily, the Doctor lead his friends around the corner into a nearby street where a few stall holders were calling for trade. Any other time Amy would have been too curious about the beautiful clothes and jewellery on offer but today was different; today the Doctor knew was going to be one of <em>those <em>days.

"Doctor, who was that man?" It was Rory that broke the silence between them as they walked along the street and the question caused the Doctor to chew on his tongue and not answer. Oh yes, one of those days when he doesn't know the answers. And he should always know the answers. "I've never seen robes like that before…and I didn't know smoke bombs even _existed_ in renaissance Italy," Rory burbled on like a babbling brook for the sole reason as to stop the silence that was eating away at the trio.  
>"I have," began the Doctor, butting in to Rory's ramblings, "seen those robes before I mean. Not as ornate as that of course but then this <strong>is<strong> Italy." He smiled slightly, though it was wasted as he still had his back to his companions. He stopped sharply, turning on his heel to face the pair and Amy, only half-listening and busy watching the rooftops, walked into the back of Rory who had stopped just as suddenly as the Doctor had - she thumped his shoulder and he sent her an apologetic glance.  
>"Where have you seen them before Doctor?" Amy asked, trying to prove that she had been paying attention.<br>"Hmm…oh. Jerusalem, around the time of the crusades. There was a group of…well, a brotherhood, calling themselves the Hashashin. They were an independent group fighting off the Knights Templar. Simpler robes but same style." He deliberately chose to avoid the word 'assassins' or the fact he had heard it mentioned by the conversing women, there was something very puzzling about all of this and he wasn't quite sure what to make of it. "Of course, it could just be a coincidence," he grinned, hoping that it would be the end of the matter and they could just enjoy the rest of the day in Florence. It was a beautiful city after all.

No such luck. Amy had let her attention wander again and was glancing about the rooftops again, hoping to see the mystery man in white flash past. The Doctor watched her and frowned before mentally shrugging and turning and striding off down the street simply declaring "Come along Ponds." Rory took his wife's hand, offered her a smile and followed the Doctor, his curiosity as to why she was so busy looking at the roofs leading him to idly stare at the facades of the buildings. They entered a wider area marked out with distinctive banners, the street turning into an active junction with more stalls and a few shops embedded into the walls. Fruit traders were the most populous but the loudest selling calls came from the art merchant and the doctor (who, much to Rory's alarm, seemed to be advertising _poisons_ alongside his cures). Groups of people mingled and chatted, a couple sat romantically together on a bench and to counter that, a woman stood shouting at her husband from a window on an adjacent street.  
>The Doctor beamed and turned to his companions, arms wide as he stated "Renaissance Italy! The hub of modern culture and elegance. A turning point in civilisation that will eventually lead to the French Revolution." Amy couldn't care, she was too busy looking from banner to banner with a puzzled expression. The Doctor picked up on this and with a sharp "Amy," pulled her attention back to him.<br>"Banners, Doctor. The other districts we walked through didn't have banners. And these seem…faded. As if they're relics." She seemed distant but, seeing as he didn't wish to get her any more agitated than she obviously was he chose to humour her. He followed her gaze up to the west-facing wall of a large house, it's ornate iron gate rusted open. One of the flags was half missing and appeared burnt, the other was faded and tattered at the bottom but the crest was still vivid. The Doctor stiffened and Amy noticed, his jaw clenched and he went a few shades paler than was natural for him. He had seen that crest before, only briefly, but his memory was good at picking out the little things. "Doctor?" Amy touched his shoulder to bring him around with a "hmm?"  
>"What is it? You look like you've seen a ghost," asked Rory, curious but oblivious.<p>

The Doctor was silent and bit his lip before turning on the spot and walking casually over to the art merchant (as he was the only one not selling something). "Excuse me, I was wondering if you could help me," he asked politely, smiling and acting like a lost tourist.  
>"Of course Messere, what is it?"<br>"That building over there -" he pointed to where the tattered banners hung, it's stone walls bathed in the warm sun bore the scars of it's past and a few of the ornate windows were broken.  
>"Ah. Palazzo Auditore. They used to be the nobles around here, owned everything. That was until they were hung for being traitors. Never saw it coming. Still, a few of the people 'round here are loyal and keep the banners up. As a sign of support."<br>This last statement caught the curiosity of the Doctor and he questioned it with a simple "support?".  
>"Si Messere. Not all of them were caught. The women were spared of course but they didn't catch all the men. One of the sons escaped, you see him around here now and again even though the place is derelict."<br>"Right…thank you," the Doctor turned to face the Ponds who had followed him and listened to the conversation. He exhaled sharply and looked back at the crest, trying to ignore the fact that Amy was getting rather annoyed by his sudden behaviour. Eventually she cracked and demanded he tell her what he was thinking. The Doctor, seeing little point in trying to change where this was going, sighed and waved at the crest vaguely. "That crest. The…the man in the hood was wearing a cape that had it embroidered on." Amy, caught out by this (and by how observant the Doctor had been when they had only seen him in brief glimpses) snapped her attention back to the newly identified Palazzo Auditore and both the Doctor and Rory saw the spark return to her eyes.  
>"So you think that he was the 'son that escaped' right? Well…why don't we go and find out?" And she stepped forward with purpose, headed straight for the rusted iron gate.<p>

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><p><strong>Author's note: More of a setup chapter this. I'm not really sure I've done it much justice but anyway...<strong>


	4. Chapter 4: Cornered Tigers

**Bah. This is a pile of poo. I have it all figured out in my head but then when it comes to getting it down.**  
><strong>Gah!<strong>  
><strong>I'll probably end up re-writing this. It's just baaaad. It's mainly introductions. Done very poorly.<br>Also, please excuse my bad Italian, I'm trying my hardest to get it right but I've never been very good at languages.**

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><p>No sound apart from the heavy beating of his heart and the sound of his boots over the roof tiles, the hooded man bolted away from the Duomo like a rat from a trap. His feet automatically took him over the route he had travelled so many times before and he jumped from roof to roof as if the gaps were nothing more than cracks in the pavement. He didn't even realise where he was going until he was on top of it, staring down into the small courtyard with a confused expression. Why here? Why now? Quickly he scanned the rooftops, looking for archers or anyone else that might alert his presence.<p>

None, good, that made him relax slightly and he released a sigh of relief which caused his shoulders to sag. The roof was a mess - no, the whole _building_ was a mess. Tiles were missing or cracked, a chimney had half tumbled down and left a hole in the roof; the sight of it pained him greatly.  
>Part of him didn't want to go down into that courtyard but the rest drove him onward and he dropped onto the trellis, overgrown with a climbing rose that had gone wild, which was directly in front of what was his mother's bedroom window. From there he stepped down onto the cracked stones in the yard, wincing as a dull ache shot through his knees. Trying not to look at the broken windows and statues, he made his way over and sat on a bench opposite the front door. The same bench, he remembered, that he found his sister crying on all those year ago.<p>

Pulling off his hood, he let the back of his head rest against the rough stone wall behind him as he sagged backwards. His armour scraped and creaked as his bodyweight leaned back before everything stilled and he finally gathered up the courage to look around.

The place was such a mess - as any building would be after over twenty years of neglect - but the signs of abuse were apparent. The front door had been boarded shut from being forced at some point in it's life, some of the windows too looked as if they had been used as entry points by looters; the once ornate statues that used to decorate the ledges on the walls were either missing or broken beyond repair and the family crest looked as if someone had tried to rip it up but failed.

It was all horribly depressing, but somehow, the assassin wasn't surprised.

/

The Doctor couldn't stop Amy as she strode, with purpose, towards the gateway. He _knew_ this but he still tried to stop her anyway. The place was probably empty but there was the sinking feeling in his stomach that told him not to go in. She dodged around him when he stood in front of her, shook him off when he grabbed her arm and just she ignored Rory completely.

His (rather loud) pleading was causing such a disturbance that a few people had stopped what they were doing to stare at them and it most certainly was loud enough to bring the assassin out of his moment of reverie. He knew the voice and he immediately thought to flee…only the palazzo was never any easy place to get out of quickly even when there was no pressure. The only choice was to fight and luckily he had chosen the right bench. Standing quickly and stepping to the side, he pressed his back hard to the wall beside the rusted, ornate gateway and listened to the footsteps getting closer.

The redheaded girl rushed in first, quickly followed by the floppy-haired man - both too quickly out of the assassin's grasp - the third was more fair game.

Rory never knew what hit him.

A hand, it's grip like an iron vice, wrapped around his left wrist and twisted his arm so far up his back he thought it might break at the same time a faint hiss of metal snaked past his ear to rest lightly on his throat. He dare not speak, but an involuntary yelp forced it's way out as he was pulled back into the grip of a very strong captor.

At the cry, Amy and the Doctor spun around to be greeted with the image of Rory, frozen to the spot out of terror - only a split second later did they see the gleaming blade resting against his Adam's apple and the glaring face over his shoulder.  
>"Who are you, and why are you following me?" came the barked demand, heavily accented and obviously coming from one not to be trifled with.<p>

The Doctor was _going_ to play this nice and calm so as not to aggravate the man further but Amy, at the sight of her husband being held with a knife to the throat, had bypassed thought and gone straight into rant mode.  
>"How <strong>dare<strong> you. Who the hell do you think you are?" She began, her voice low and icy cold, her eyes boring into those of the Italian. "Do you-"  
>"Amy-" the Doctor cut in but was ignored.<br>"-have **any** idea who-"  
>"Amy the Hashashin, -"<br>"-you have under that knife of yours? 'Cos I'm betting you -"  
>"- you never let me finish what -"<br>"don't. And believe me that when-"  
>"Amy stop this, the Hashashin, they were-"<br>"-you let him go he's going to kick your -"  
>"<em>Assassins!<em>" His voice having raised to a shout, the Doctor cut off his companion dead in her tracks. "Amy, he's an assassin."

Amy Pond paled as the realisation sunk in very, very quickly. The man she loved, her husband, was being held in the very tight grasp of a skilled, professional killer with a blade held to his throat. And she had ranted at him. The husband in question had begun to tremble and was trying his hardest not to swallow the knot that had formed in his throat in case the sharp metal that tickled the hairs on his neck was closer than it appeared. He shared a worried, silent exchange with his wife, fear passing from one to the other with merely a look.

The Doctor, however, put his hand on Amy's shoulders and stepped in front of her with a friendly smile on his face - directed at the unfazed assassin who hadn't even blinked once during the conflicting, one-sided conversation. Truthfully, the Doctor was almost as shaken as his companions but he wouldn't let it show, he had to get Rory out of the sticky mess he was in and calm what was an obviously dangerous man.  
>"Hello," he began, parting his hands which he had been wringing subconsciously, "I'm the Doctor. This is Amy and that's -" he gestured at the captive "Rory. And we're not following you. Well, actually no, we <em>are<em> following you but not intentionally. Rather, my friends here were a little concerned to see you jump off the Campanile and wondered if you were alright."

A silence fell between them, tense and nervous. No other sounds crept into the silent bubble that had surrounded the palazzo as the Doctor and Amy waited for the assassin to react.

Then the world breathed out.

With a faint hiss of metal, the 'knife' withdrew back under the wrist of the assassin and he nodded, tossing Rory towards Amy with a simple "va bene" of acceptance.

Amy threw her arms around her husband's neck and pulled him tightly to her, hugging him as if he was about to disappear; Rory, still traumatized, took a few seconds before he responded and squeezed her tightly around the waist. The Doctor, however, stared at the man with a slightly perplexed expression on his face. He was confused and expecting more questions before Rory was freed, instead that was that.

The assassin folded his arms as he watched the couple, their hug turning into a flurry of kisses exchanged. The Doctor noticed this too and exchanged a look with the man in white that said everything it needed to - that they had a tendency to do that a lot. The assassin merely shrugged and waited. He was very tempted to leave, to just turn and walk out the gate - but he figured that he would just keep on being followed by the three until the had asked him everything they were going to ask. He knew the feeling when questions hung in the air, waiting to be asked, he got it all the time when he was around Leonardo (and his sister, increasingly) so he thought it best just to wait it out and answer as best he could. There was very little point in running.

Amy, eventually tearing herself away from her husband, fixed a glare on the man who seemed to radiate far too much self confidence for her liking - even more than the Doctor ever could. Her jaw clenched as she stared at him hard, getting a good look at his face (for time had not allowed him to pull up his hood). She couldn't help but notice he was _ridiculously _handsome but that didn't dim her anger at him one bit and before anyone could react she closed the distance between them and slapped him. Hard.

Even the assassin was caught off guard and he staggered sideways from the force of the blow, his hand rubbing his cheek from the sting that was radiating through it. It had been a while since he had been slapped _that hard_. "Ciu cosa diavolo era quello?" He exclaimed, not expecting an answer.  
>"Don't you <em>ever<em> do that again." Amy growled, waving a finger at the assassin.  
>"I'm sorry, madonna. I can never be too careful." He smiled, shrugging and holding up his hands in peace, half amused at the situation. "It will never happen again."<br>"Well…good." Amy had lost her fire, she was expecting a confrontation and an argument and the dark stranger had poured cold water on that before she had even got going.

The Doctor, quick to change the subject and remove any possible tension that may remain, looked about the courtyard. "What happened here?"  
>"Treachery." Came the gruff, solemn reply from man in white as he too looked around his former home.<br>"Treachery?" the Doctor questioned, looking back at the man who seemed pained by the ruined appearance of the palazzo.  
>"Si. I would put it back the way it was if I could."<br>"Then why don't you?" Asked Rory, now over his traumatic experience (but still half-hiding behind his wife).  
>"I am the most wanted man in Firenze, you think Savanorola would take kindly to me reviving my family's home and bringing back memories in those that are still loyal to the name?"<br>"You're the 'son that escaped' then. The one the art merchant spoke of?" Amy was getting genuinely curious about the man now, he didn't seem like some mindless killer of men.  
>"Si. I am Ezio Auditore da Firenze - at your service."<p> 


	5. Chapter 5: That'll Leave a Bruise

**Authors note: Ok, so I've decided to scrap where I was going with this and end it here. Now, before you begin to wonder why, let me explain.  
>I have decided to use this fic as a...well, sort of a set up or prologue to it's sequel - that's actually going to go somewhere. I was going to have <em>this<em> one go somewhere but I decided the plan wasn't viable. But this fic is going to be very useful when I'm writing the follow on - it means I don't have to go through all the faff of having the characters get to know each other etc etc.  
>Have no fear, the next one will be a damn site better than this, seeing as this was my first ever fic and I was merely finding my feet.<strong>

**So keep a sharp eye, the sequel will be coming soon**...  
><strong>...and it'll have more Rory :D<strong>

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><p>After the greetings had been exchanged and Rory had bristled swiftly when the charming assassin kissed his wife on the hand, Amy pulled the Doctor away to one side, as subtle and gently as she could without arising suspicion.<br>"Doctor, something's been bothering me since we got here. The people talking in little groups, the poster, the soldiers shouting, _him_ - there are bits of Italian thrown in here and there. I thought the TARDIS translated everything, we haven't had any trouble before."  
>"Hmm…"the Doctor frowned and looked at the Italian who was now gesticulating at Rory (who looked somewhat out of his depth) and clenched his jaw in thought. "I don't know, there's something interrupting the circuit somewhere. Something very, very powerful is in this city and I don't like the feeling that it's causing."<br>"Feeling?"  
>"Can't you sense it?" asked the Doctor, mildly taken aback by the red headed girl that was usually so perceptive. "There's a dark cloud hanging over Florence even though it's a bright day. A feeling of unrest coming from it's people. And a feeling of urgency coming from our assassin friend over there."<br>"Yeah…about him, Doctor. Do you get the impression that there's…I dunno, something _off_ about him?"  
>"You're still concerned about his big fall into the hay cart?"<br>Amy simply nodded and watched as the assassin drew his sword and passed it to Rory. This time it was her turn to frown as she wondered what the hell was going on.

/

Even though she was restrained in her removal of herself and the Doctor from the conversation, Ezio had noticed Amy's subtle request for an isolated conversation and took the opportunity to switch his attention to the man who had said very little. Rory too had noticed his wife's movements and had fully expected an awkward silence - what he got, however, was the intense and questioning stare of the man who had a blade to his throat moments before. It was as much as he could do not to wilt but instead he stiffened and braced himself for whatever was to come.  
>"Your lady seems to think you can handle yourself." His tone was surprisingly gentle, yet there was an undertone of humour there - Ezio didn't believe Amy's threat but he had to be certain. And Rory didn't like the smirk that was forming on his lips one bit.<br>"Well I…she…"he fumbled for words, nervously glancing over to where his wife and the Doctor chatted in thought, wondering what the hell she had gotten him into now.  
>Ezio arched a single eyebrow at Rory's blathering but remained silent as the man sweated and fidgeted on the spot under his gaze. The assassin was distinctly unimpressed.<br>"Yeah…I don't know." Rory was still stumbling over himself, getting more and more unsure about what the assassin was actually asking.  
>"But can you handle a sword? Savonorola's guards are not a friendly bunch at the best of times," the assassin gesticulated with a vague hand wave in the direction of the Duomo before pointing more forcefully at the increasingly tense Rory but all the while keeping his voice low enough so that the pair off to one side couldn't hear. "And if you cannot protect your lady then you should tell her straight and stop her from potentially dropping you all into a trouble your clever friend cannot get you out of."<br>Ezio's words were working and Rory was beginning to bite, his fists clenching at the accusations being so casually flung at him. He hadn't protected Amy for two thousand years to be insulted by some Italian upstart.  
>"I <em>can <em>wield a sword you know."  
>Just the reaction Ezio was hoping for and he beamed happily and exclaiming "molto bene!" before drawing his sword and offering the hilt to Rory.<br>"Uh…what am I meant to do with that?"  
>"Show me."<br>"Wha? I don't."  
>"Prove you can hold your own."<p>

Hesitantly, Rory took hold of the hilt, wrapped in a well-worn leather that had obviously been replaced many times in it's history. He had seen quite a few swords before but none were as fine in quality as the one he held in his hand right now. It was incredibly old and yet the blade, shorter than usual, was unmarked and looked brand new. The guard, shaped like wings, matched the end of the hilt which curved into a delicate eagle. It was balanced perfectly and Rory swung it and listened to it's sharp edge slicing through the air with a silent reverie. Ezio merely watched on, smiling in approval.

Amy, now watching her husband aghast and about to speak, the Doctor silenced her with a slight touch to her arm. For some reason, he trusted the assassin and, because the Doctor did, so did Amy even if she didn't know his motives.

"Bene, so you _do_ know how to wield a blade. Now, come at me." Bare handed, the assassin widened his stance and motioned for the armed Rory to attack. Rory just stood there, gaping like a fish and staring at the Italian in disbelief. Was he actually asking him to attack him, an unarmed man, with a sword that looked sharp enough to cut through the thickest armour?  
>"Uh…I don't think- "<br>"Don't think, **act."** Ezio barked, commanding and angry, enough to make Rory flinch and thrust the sword forward.

The sword arced upwards and was caught by the deflecting bracer of the assassin who lunged forward - still empty handed - to jab the tips of his fingers into Rory's ribs just below his heart. "Dead," he stated, smirking and waiting for the penny to drop.  
>And drop it did, the Last Centurion backing away and widening his stance. He was still unsure about this, but there was such a smug air of confidence around the Italian that drove him forward.<p>

Swing after swing was countered and dodged, Ezio's fingers hit him everywhere; from between the shoulder blades to directly below his chin. And all would have been fatal had he been armed. Amy watched, mouth agape and flapping like a fish out of water - more at the fact that her husband was (for the most part) holding his own even if he was 'dieing' with every swing he took. The Doctor was more interested in the way the assassin moved and acted, he seemed to predict where the sword would come from before it was even swung and was moving to counter. Amy was right, there _was _something odd about him but he couldn't figure out what.  
>Eventually, curiosity got the better of him and he discreetly pulled out his sonic screwdriver and aimed it at the man in white. It whirred quietly and even though the Doctor knew that there was no way Ezio should have noticed, he still felt apprehensive about it.<p>

His apprehension was right. The assassin, seeing the glowing light and hearing the faint whirr above the concentration he was putting on _not_ hurting Rory, accidentally defaulted. Rory, mistiming a swing, almost caught him off guard but instinct took an armoured forearm against the flat of the blade before gloved fingers wrapped around the delicate wings of the hilt and pulled harshly. Unused to the sensation, Rory gripped the hilt stronger but reacted too late when he saw Ezio's free arm swinging towards him. A balled fist hit him square in the soft part of his stomach and Rory felt the air leave his lungs as he curled around the force of the fist.

Not bothering to apologise, Ezio sheathed his sword and strode towards the Doctor - leaving Amy to rush forward to pick up her husband who was now on his knees trying to recover the air he had lost.

"What is that?" A demand, a gloved finger pointing at the device that was now being put back in the pocket of the Time Lord. The Doctor ignored it.  
>"Why are you here, Ezio Auditore?" As calm as ever, the Doctor simply tilted his head and held the assassin's stare. "You are the most wanted person in the city, yet you are here. You must have a reason."<br>Ezio, annoyed that his question had been ignored, clenched his jaw and bristled at the question. The tension increased and the Ponds could do nothing but watch with a nervous apprehension.  
>"Savonorola," the assassin growled, breaking the silence after what had seemed like forever. "He has an…object. An artefact of unspeakable power. He stole it from me."<br>"How can a monk steal something from an assassin?"  
>"A child can steal from an assassin after they've had a blade thrust into their gut."<br>"This artefact, what is it?"  
>"A sphere of knowledge, I have received word that the madman is using it to brainwash people."<br>"Doctor? Is that possible?" Amy cut in and the Doctor nodded grimly.  
>"Depending on what it is, brainwashing is entirely possible. But, all that aside, why should you have it, assassin?"<br>"Because Firenze has fallen far enough."  
>"That's not what I asked."<br>"But that is all I will tell.

Silence again, this time brief as a thrown knife with a note attached thunked into the wood of the battered door and Ezio looked upwards to see a thief who nodded and vanished. He read the note and slipped the knife into one of the three empty slots in his belt. Pulling up his hood as he turned to the three time travellers, he merely bowed and exited through the rusted iron gate.

/

Amy felt her blood begin to boil and she was two strides into chasing after the man in white before the Doctor caught her arm and pulled her back. She glared at him and then out into the street - the assassin had vanished. She cursed under her breath and turned on the Doctor.  
>"You're just going to let him leave? Just like that?"<br>"Amy, he's a dangerous man. It's best to let dangerous men leave when they want to."  
>"But…but he -"<br>"But nothing. You saw how effortlessly he floored your Roman," he pointed at Rory, who winced as he tested where the fist had hit his stomach.  
>"But…I….Oh I give up!" She was at a loss for words for once and she threw her hands and walked back to her husband before growling "man-up stupid face" half in jest, half in irritation.<br>"I suggest we leave," the Doctor stated as he walked out and away from the palazzo Auditore, his companions following without argument.

/

Back in the TARDIS, there was a strange quiet. They had left Florence long behind them but it's shadow hung like a ghost. Rory sat on the steps, stiff and sore from his little 'training' session. Amy leaned against the hand rail just above him, staring at the ceiling and occasionally glaring at a thought.

The Doctor, however, was busy fiddling with the console, tapping things in and looking at the screen before tapping things in again. Occasionally he would mutter under his breath and frown at the readings the screen was giving him. He had even slotted in his sonic screwdriver into a port to so the TARDIS could take it's readings. He was confused by what he was seeing, he didn't like being confused.  
>"But…that's not possible." He finally growled to himself, attracting the attention of his companions who expected an explanation.<p>

Silence fell again, apart from the beeping and mutterings coming from the console.

"Doctor. Are you gonna tell us, or are we just going to travel in silence?" The voice caused the Doctor to look up and focus on the pair, his brain finally realising it was Rory that spoke.  
>"Hmm…?" He frowned and looked back at the screen. "Oh, I'm just trying to make sense of it…"<br>"Of what?" Amy had moved to sit beside Rory but she fidgeted and wanted to see what the Time Lord was doing.  
>"Our assassin friend and…things."<br>"Things?"  
>"Yeah, yanno. Things. And stuff."<br>"Like…?" She was beginning to sound bored.  
>"Like the fact the artefact he spoke of was interfering with the TARDIS translation circuit. Like it was casting a shadow over Florence, like history records a man in white killing Savonorola before he was eaten by a pyre. Like the fact that the readings suggest that he wasn't <em>quite <em>human."

A brief pause as the Ponds let what they had heard sink in before Rory pitched a "wait…what?" at that last statement. "I'm sorry, how can anyone be not quite human?"  
>"Oh he's mostly human. But there is a small part of him that's not. Or rather, has never been. And even the TARDIS doesn't know what it is."<br>"Does that explain his ability to 'fly'?" Asked Amy slightly disbelieving, folding her arms and resting them on her knees.  
>"And his ability to know where Rory's blows were coming from before Rory did," the Doctor added in all seriousness. "And I suspect, he's got a few more talents up his sleeves along with those hidden blades of his."<p>

Another pregnant pause, a contemplative silence before the Doctor wiped the screen and turned to his companions with a grin.  
>"I think that's enough of that. Where to next Ponds?"<p>

* * *

><p><strong>NB: And fin. I dislike this<strong> **chapter simply because I didn't know how to end it and still put in the things that Ezio needed to know about Rory so it's kinda...botched. But anyway...**

**Watch for it's sequel to drop in the next few weeks, if you're interested :)**


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